


Stiles - 18

by thepsychicwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, M/M, Stiles Imagine, Supernatural Elements, Teen Wolf Imagine, personal fic, thewritingbanshee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:06:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2659787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicwolf/pseuds/thepsychicwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an incident, you left Beacon Hills and haven't seen Stiles for four years, until one night you come back to visit your family for Thanksgiving, and run into him while waiting to cross the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles - 18

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally for my blog thewritingbanshee if you'd like to check it out.

He taps on your shoulder as you're waiting for the lights to change so that you can cross the street. At first, because it's night, you freeze inside and your eyes widen, shaking him off. It's not until you hear him say your name that you're alright.   
"(Y/N)?" He says before you turn to face him.   
He's in awe, staring at you, thinking how funny it is; what a coincidence it is to see you here after all this time. You catch your breath and think how funny it is; it's funny how fast the night changes.   
"Stiles." You say, a smile forming on your face.   
He pulls you in for a hug before a proper hello. Four years seems like way too long of a time to go without one of his hugs. There is snow on his coat, but you bury your head in it anyways. Sometimes, this type of comfort is needed.   
"Wow," he breaths out as he pulls back, "you look amazing."  
You take a real look at him, taking in all the differences. He has a light stubble, and he looks absolutely stunning. His eyes are brighter, as if he's finally sleeping okay, and his cheeks are slightly rosy from the cold. "You don't look too bad yourself, Stilinski." You grin, touching his chin.   
A snowflake catches on his eyelash. "Are you finally visiting Derek for Thanksgiving?"  
"Yeah. I got here last night. He refused to fly out to visit me for the fifth year in a row."  
"Good. This town missed you."  
His gaze is soft, and the light from the lamp posts has the snow glowing, reflecting onto him. "Not really."  
"Come on, people have forgotten all about what happened."  
But you can't find it in you to believe him. Ever since you've gotten back, all you see is people staring. All they see is the burn scar on your cheek. However, Stiles sees the doubt in your eyes, and the same person he knew four years ago.   
He looks around the street, taking note of your silence. Not many people are around. It's the busiest area of town, but most people are home with their families. "Where were you heading?" He asks.   
"Derek and are having dinner tomorrow night, because tonight he had a party with work people. I think your dad was there. So I grabbed some takeout and was going back to the house to watch some movies." You hold up the bag of food, which is the only thing keeping your hands warm.   
He smirks. "I'm actually coming from that party."

"Why did you leave?"   
"I don't like parties." He shrugs. "Why weren't you there?"  
You shrug as well. "I don't like them much either." The light changed a while ago, you notice, but the two of you still stand together in the snow falling night.   
"Wait, does this mean that you're walking all the way to Derek's home, in the woods, at ten o'clock at night?"   
"Yes."  
"No-"  
You smile. "This town isn't as dangerous as it once was, Stiles."  
"Thanks to you."  
"Yeah. So don't worry about me."  
He thinks about it for a second but shakes his head. "I don't care. You're coming over with me. Don't spend thanksgiving alone."  
"It's okay. I-"  
"No." He takes your hand, and his eyes widen at how cold it is. "Holy. Tomorrow I'm buying you some mittens."  
You don't argue.   
***  
He informs you that just a few months ago, he and Scott moved to an apartment building, not too far from where he used to live. He was walking home from the party when he ran into you. Scott is still there, with his mom and Kira's family.   
"How is your dad?" You ask him when he's brought up in conversation.   
Stiles takes your coat, hanging it up for you. The room is simple, with a small kitchen with minimal counter space, and a cozy living room with two different gaming systems set up, and many controllers scattered around.   
"My dad's doing pretty good. Melissa is basically the perfect match for him because she helps him watch his health so I don't have to."  
You walk into the living room, taking a peek at the photos in frames on the wall behind the couch. There's one of Scott and Stiles when they were about twelve. There's one of Stiles and his parents when Stiles was really young, like so young that he had mop hair. There's a few with Kira, and then there's one from graduation.   
"Derek told me things were pretty serious with them. It sounds really sweet."  
Stiles takes the takeout from your hands effortlessly and lays it out on the table, moving away gaming stuff. "It is really great. And Kira invited you to her and Scott's wedding, right?" You nod. "It's in May. Yeah. Anyways, everyone's doing really great. Even Derek. Which is, like, weird."  
"What about you?"  
He turns on the television, and begins browsing Netflix. "What about me?"  
You look at the graduation photo. It's of you, Kira, Lydia, Scott, Stiles and Malia. That was your last good day in Beacon Hills. "How are you?"  
"I'm okay. I'm better."  
"What have you been up to these past few years?"  
He finally notices what you're looking at, and kind of pauses, not answering your question.   
"Stiles?" You turn to him after a moment of silence.   
His eyes look suddenly concerned and they flicker to the photo. "Lydia is in Europe, did you know? She's getting her PHD-"  
"I'm asking about you. Derek filled me in on basically everything. I still am in contact with Lydia, and Kira. I just know nothing about what you've been up to for the past few years. We were best friends once, Stiles."  
He sighs, his eyes still on the photograph. "I'm okay now. It was hard at first, that's all."  
On graduation day, you remember Stiles crying. You were used to his tears, but that time it was because he was happy. Of course, two days later, those eyes of his filled with sorrow once again. If there's one thing you remember the best, it's Stiles' eyes.   
***  
"Stiles, wake up," You whispered harshly. Almost instantly, his eyes fluttered open, full of pain and panic. "We need to get going. Now." You looked at the building behind you. The portal cutting through the ozone layer was simply being controlled by a small machine. The Dullahan guarded, and no one was getting past. You and Stiles were the only ones who weren't being affected by the wolfsbane ignited in the air, and you were the only ones capable of taking him down.   
"It's like The Avengers," Stiles said, his eyes hazy as he stared up at the portal.   
"Yeah. And like The Avengers, fucking terrifying alien things are going to come and kill us unless we close it."  
"We're the Avengers," Stiles blinked.   
You nodded, forcing him onto his feet, praying that the hit didn't give him a concussion.   
"Oh god," he takes a deep breath in. "I can't do this."  
"Stiles. You're the only one who can."  
"I'm just a kid," he mutters, the sparks reflecting on his dark eyes. "I just graduated, I was going to college, and now I'm going to die."  
"Stiles, if you don't do this with me, you're going to die anyways."  
It took him a moment before he made his decision.   
***  
The Dullahan was waiting for the two of you. His eyes flamed on his head as he held it under his arm. He rode in circles around the roof, and honestly, if it wasn't so terrifying, it would've been funny.   
"What do we do? We can't just casually walk past him." You whisper as the two of you hide.   
"I'll distract him. You go."  
"Yeah. That's so going to work."  
Stiles mutters to himself for a few moments. You feel him tense at your side, and reach out to hold his hand. "Come on. You always have a plan."  
"Do you sit in your house and research these things?" He sasses out of panic.   
"No. But there has to be some way around him."  
Stiles is close to a breakdown, but his eyes suddenly catch your ear, or rather, what's on your ear. "Wait. (Y/N), are your earrings made from real gold?"   
You stare at him, nodding confusedly. Although you're confused, your hope rises, knowing he has an idea. "They were Talia's."  
Stiles swears under his breath and suddenly looks so relieved. "I remembered something. "  
"Stiles. What's going on?"  
"In English class once, we read this story about a headless horseman. He was terrified of gold, of all things. Oh my god, how could I forget that."  
Before you could act, a large flash of lightning hit the ground by the Dullahan, igniting the scene. You took off your earring, sliding it into his hand. "Move fast. I'll get the machine."  
If only it was so simple.   
Everything went in slow motion. Sure, the gold scared away the Dullahan, however, moments before the portal could be closed, lightning hit Stiles.   
At first, you thought it was all over. You felt the vibration of the strike, hearing his scream and gasp, and the hooves of the horse riding away into the night. The city; the rooftop, it was a glowing red. He called your name, and you turned to him. You swore, you could still hear Lydia's shrieks from the ground below, and the calls from the people in the town. Stiles was alive, but he was burned, and badly.   
"Stiles-"  
"Turn off the portal!" Which you should have. But you kept walking towards him instead, which is when the first creature came through. The horrified look in Stiles' eyes, and the cries from down below signalled for you to turn around. You caught grip of reality again, and sped up, snapping off the portal. Only one alien got through, and the wolfsbane stopped whisking through the air, but it wasn't over yet. The light hit you; the last strike coming through; causing the strange marking on your face. It was over hours later, after the alien was killed, and after they found you and Stiles. After a number of neighbours were killed.   
***  
"What the hell happened up there?" Derek asked you the next day at the hospital.   
Stiles was sleeping in his hospital bed. You stood by his side, avoiding eye contact with anyone. "I thought he was going to die."  
"You were just about to close the portal then you just stopped?"  
"It's over now, Derek!"  
He furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm sorry."  
"I realize I basically got those eight people killed. I realise one of them worked at the station with you, and I'm sorry, okay?"  
"Don't apologize."   
"Then stop telling me what I did wrong. I know what I did wrong."  
Derek didn't speak, and you wiped away a tear. The guilt had been killing you.   
You told Derek later that night about your plan to leave to New York. NYU had accepted you a few months before, but you'd decided to stay in California, attending UCLA. Although, last minute, due to your guilt, you took the offer to NYU.   
"That is ridiculous," Derek groaned, resting on the stairs as you stood by the door with your bags.   
"Derek, I've been living here my entire life and I'm tired of it. Everyone around me gets hurt."  
Derek, out of all people, understood. "That doesn't mean you give up."  
"I'm not giving up. I'm giving everyone a break."  
Derek rolled his eyes. "You're being dramatic."  
"People died, Derek!"  
Derek sighed, covering his face with his hands. "You can't just leave him."  
"Who?"  
"Stiles."  
Blinking, you took hold of your suitcase. "What do you mean?"  
"The kid is in love with you, and you're not even telling him that you're leaving to go accross the country."  
"He's not in love with-"  
Derek groaned again. "Yes he is. Literally everyone knows you two are in love with each other, except the two of you."  
"I'm not-"  
"Okay. Maybe you're not, since you're able to leave him so easily."   
Although, Derek had it wrong. Maybe you didn't know quite at the time that you were in love with Stiles, but you left to protect him; because you loved him.   
***  
You sit on the couch, next to Stiles who is holding the remove nervously. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving," you tell him.   
His smile is small and he shrugs. "I wish you didn't leave."  
"But now look how happy you all are."  
He shakes his head "That doesn't mean we still could've been happy with you here."  
You change the topic "Did you go to college?"  
Nodding, Stiles puts the remote down, turning more to face you. "I've been working at the book store for the past couple of years, and I just got my English degree. And uh, this publishing firm in Los Angles liked this book I sent in."  
Your eyes widen. "Oh my god. Does that mean they're publishing your book?"  
Trying so hard to hold back his smile, he nods again. "I haven't told anyone yet. I just figured out last week. They want me to come into LA in a few days."  
"Ah! This is so great! Why haven't you told anyone this?"  
"I didn't really know how to bring it up," he beams at your excitement.   
"What's the book about?"  
"You've read it." He bites down on his lip nervously, as you search your mind trying to remember .  
"... Stiles, are you talking about the one you wrote when you were drunk when we were eighteen?"  
"Yes."  
The look of nervousness on his face melts you. The story was a ridiculous idea the two of you came up with; you didn't ever imagine it would become something serious.  
***  
"Could you imagine what would happen if we never met?" Stiles laughed casually, pouring himself another drink. It had been a horrible week at school, and you and Stiles needed a break. So, that Friday night, the two of you took his jeep just out of town to sit and drink together.   
"No?"  
He laughed again. "It would be such a weird story."  
Blissfully drunk, you lied on the grass, staring up the stars. "What are you even talking about?"  
"Like if your parents didn't die, and you didn't live here in Beacon Hills. Or if my dad was the sheriff in another town. And we just never crossed paths."  
"I think I'd still find you." You grinned at the moon.   
He took a seat next to you on the grass. However, as you faced the jeep, he faced the other way to look at you. "I think so, too."  
"Like I was born in San Diego, so there's still a chance that I might've gone to UCLA. And lets say your dad was a policeman in LA."  
He went with it. "And I ended up going to the same school. And I'd work in the library, because that's not too hard, and it's on campus, and Librarians love me."  
"Even though you're the loudest kid," you smiled, sitting up and poking his stomach.   
"Anyways, you'd come to the library every other day and sit in the same spot. And we would talk sometimes, like when you'd take out books and stuff."  
"Oh! Then you could like recommend a book to me one day-"  
"And because you're so stubborn, you would take two months to read it. After the cute mysterious boy who recommended it got fired from the library. And you had no classes with him, and didn't know his name, so you couldn't tell him how much you loved it."  
You smiled softly. "You do have really good recs."   
His voice got quieter. "Then you'd run into me one day and faint because I'm so great."  
Rolling your eyes, you moved closer to him subconsciously. "Shut up. No. I'd tell you to stop, and you'd stop, and take a breath, because wow fate is real. And then I'd tell you about the book, and you'd tell me that you recommended it because you'd been reading all the same books that you saw me reading while you were working at the library. And I'd call you out for being creepy. And you'd apologize but defend yourself by saying you stopped doing that after I read this really horrible book I was reading for a class, that basically put you to sleep."  
"And then your friend, let's say, Kira, who was walking with you when you bumped into me, awkwardly stood there and asked hey, (Y/N), is this that cute library boy you told me about? And then you'd have to confess that you noticed me too."  
You began to laugh. "This sounds like such a cliché love story."  
"It's a love story?"  
"Of course it is."  
Stiles smiled and it took you a moment to stop giggling and to realize he was staring at your lips.   
"I still think it's a cute story."  
"So what? Do we go on a date? Do we recommend more books to each other?"  
"Yeah. We would've fallen in love. There'd be no supernatural shit like werewolves to worry about. Just us."  
You couldn't help but look right back at his lips. "It sounds nice."  
The two of you didn't quite realize how close you got. And just as you felt his hot breath, he stands up. "I need to write this down."  
***  
"Did you change their names and hand it in?"  
He grins. "Well, I changed their names, edited it a lot, and sent it to them, yeah. I told you it was a cute idea."  
"How did the story end?"  
He laughs. "Well, our characters go on a really lame study date- it's romantic when you're reading it, I swear -at the library."  
"That's so cheesy."  
"It's not cheesy. Its romantic."   
"He totally tells her that in the story, doesn't he?"  
Stiles blushes. "...Maybe. Anyways! Then they start reading a book together, but aren't actually reading it, they're thinking about each other, and finally she just sort of kisses him."  
"She kisses him?"  
"Yeah. He's too shy to make the first move."  
"This actually sounds kind of cute."  
Stiles smiles, looking pleased that you like it. "I wrote it for years ago, but have been editing it forever, so I'm just happy with what it's come to."  
"I'm proud of you."  
As you place your hand over his wrist, he looks up at you slowly. "Thanks. I- uh- I guess I had a huge crush on you back then. I mean, I basically wrote a whole novel about you."  
You think about what Derek told you all those years ago. "Well, I helped you think up the thing."  
"Maybe. But you still left a few weeks later."  
You turn your head to the side, letting some guilt slide in. And also, quite a bit of regret. "I left to protect you."  
"Geez, you mean like how Edward left to protect Bella?"  
You laugh. "I suppose so."  
"Gross. Oh god. I do not want to be Bella. She's such a sad character."  
You burst out laughing and can't contain how much you missed being with Stiles, that you have to rest your forehead on his shoulder. He puts his hand on your chin, bringing your face up to look at him. "(Y/N), listen carefully. When you left I did not sit in my room staring out the window for many months. That's just pathetic."  
"I didn't think you did that." You can't help but notice the way he licks his lips.   
"I sat in a hospital bed for a few days because of my burns, but then I went home and walked around town showing everyone my super cool lightning scars. Because they're so awesome. And you have one on your face. That's the most badass thing ever."  
"Thank you?"  
"You're welcome! And you know what? I went to college, I got a degree, I have a great job, and I wrote a novel. I've had a really great past few years."  
"Okay?"  
"But I still missed you. And I would sometimes do something really great, like when I figured out my book was being published, and you'd be the only person I'd want to tell things to."  
You place your hand over his as it moves to hold the side of your face. "I'm sorry I never called."  
"Today, I was at the party and I saw Derek, right? He didn't tell me you were back, but I knew something was up because he asked me how I was doing. He never asks me how I am. It was so weird."  
"Well, I'm happy I didn't go to the party. I prefer being right here."  
"I'm glad I left when I did."  
"I still think fate is real," you smile, looking into those soft, golden eyes of his. He recognizes this as his assurance that everything is okay between the two of you. You haven't seen each other for four years and sometimes this type of comfort is needed. So, Stiles Stilinski, the boy who was obliviously in love with you when he was eighteen, kisses you, finally, after all this time.   
Who knows what may've happened if you had stayed? Stiles might not have been inspired enough to have his book written. You may've been full of angst for a long time, partially ruining some friendships, and you may've never even told each other. But, as fate may have it, you sit together on his couch, hands intertwining, and noses knocking together.   
"I think it's strange how we never knew," you whisper, slightly parting.   
"Knew what?"  
"I mean, Derek even told me once; how we were totally into each other."  
Stiles laughed. "No. I think I always knew."

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be short but it became over dramatic as I got carried away and it still isn't insanely long, but it's longer than I expected. So, I apologize.


End file.
